Passover begins when I open the Pesach closet and see the dishes, pots and pans, appliances and utensils. This odd, mismatched assortment belonged to my mother-in-law, who used them through the years. Pulling them out of the closet, I can still see my in-laws conducting their sedarim, and hear their voices. The dishes show signs of aging and use: cracks, chips, worn finishes, loose handles etc. And yet, they are new to me every year.